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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28634613">Dincobb One Shots</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/michaelfalls/pseuds/michaelfalls'>michaelfalls</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Mandalorian (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, One Shot Collection</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:03:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,008</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28634613</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/michaelfalls/pseuds/michaelfalls</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I didn't want to flood my page with a whole bunch of different one-shots so I decided to compile them into one fic instead. Each chapter is a different one-shot :) They have varying lengths.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Din Djarin/Cobb Vanth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dincobb One Shots</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cara convinces Din to go to a party and he sees a cute drunk silver-haired boy dancing on the table to Britney Spears. Life doesn't get better than that.</p><p>2008 words</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Din really hates parties.</p><p>It’s not that he’s a hermit -- though that life would be preferable to a social one -- it’s just that it’s so noisy and he hates the feeling of so many sweaty people being so close to him. The very idea sends shivers down his spine and not in a good way.</p><p>This time, Cara and Greef had convinced him to follow them to a party held at a university nearby with open invites. Apparently, the students there were celebrating the end of exam season and Cara had a friend there who asked her to bring friends. Of course, she instantly asked Greef and Din. Greef readily accepted but Din took convincing.</p><p>“You need to get out of your shell, Din,” Cara had said. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll see something cool at the party. Meet someone interesting. Hell, you’ll leave with a good story, at least. You don’t even have to stay longer than an hour, okay?”</p><p>Din agreed reluctantly, only so she would stop asking him. “I’ll leave before midnight,” Din told her.</p><p>Greef and Cara picked out his outfit for the party; a button-up floral shirt that Greef insists he leaves almost completely unbuttoned, a blank dog tag necklace and plain white pants. Din thinks he looks ridiculous -- Greef and Cara tell him otherwise.</p><p>Looking over himself in the mirror, he mutters, “Sometimes, I think you two try to make me look bad on purpose.”</p><p>“Din, you look handsome,” Cara says, rolling her eyes as she uncaps the bottle of gel. “Now come here.”</p><p>“No gel,” Din quickly says, stepping away.</p><p>Greef grins. “I think he looks fine as is, Dune.”</p><p>She narrows her eyes, looking Din up and down before she concedes, putting away the gel. She herself is wearing a green leather jacket, a blank tank top and ripped jeans while Greef is wearing a red shirt with a black vest, wearing plain slacks. Din supposes his outfit could look worse considering who styled him.</p><p>“Alright, then let’s go before all the drinks are gone,” Cara says.</p><p> </p><p>oOo</p><p> </p><p>University parties are much wilder than Din had anticipated.</p><p>All around him are students dancing so close to one another that Din feels almost intrusive when he looks at anyone for longer than a second. Greef is lost to the crowd almost immediately but Cara promises to stick with him as a way of repaying him agreeing to come along.</p><p>The music is loud, the bass reverberating deep in his chest, and Cara shouts above the volume, “I’m gonna get us a drink! Stay right there, I’ll be right back!”</p><p>"Cara, wait--“ Din cuts himself short when Cara disappears in the mass of students and sighs to himself, shifting awkwardly to the music. It’s a pop song by an artist that Din doesn’t really recognise. From the voice and the number of excited people, she must be mainstream. The fact that he doesn’t know who made the song makes him feel even more alien. It’s been only three years since he graduated from university but he still feels like he’s somehow too old to be here.</p><p>“Hey!” A girl shouts to him, offering him some beer in a red solo cup. “Want a drink, cutie?”</p><p>“No, thanks!” Din says loudly, using sign language to say it as well in case she can’t hear him above the noise. Her eyes trace the movement and she gives him a thumbs-up before moving deeper into the crowd.</p><p>Din strains to relocate Cara but his search comes up empty, much to his frustration. It can’t possibly take this long to get two cups of beer.</p><p>Right then, a Southern accent rings out through the room. “Shit, I see a cute fucking guy!”</p><p>Din almost chokes on the beer he doesn’t have.</p><p>His eyes search the sea of people until he finally finds the person who yelled it -- a silver-haired boy with a cowboy hat strapped to his back standing on a table with a slightly older man looking very sick of his antics by his side. The younger of them is definitely drunk out of his mind, his maroon shirt hanging over his shoulder, leaving him shirtless, with a loosened belt over his black jeans.</p><p><em>Circus</em> by Britney Spears is playing now, and the silver-haired boy screams the lyrics, holding up his solo cup as if trying to get all the party attendants to sing along with him. “<em>All eyes on me in the centre of the fucking ring because I’m gay!</em>”</p><p>An Asian girl trying to pull him down grumbles at him, and if Din can read her lips accurately, she’s telling him that those aren’t even the words.</p><p>“The hell are you saying’, Fen?” The boy questions, dumping his beer onto someone Din can’t see. “Those are the words.”</p><p>“Get the fuck down from there!” ‘Fen’ hisses.</p><p>The silver-haired guy locks eyes with Din across the room and Din freezes where he stands.</p><p>The man by his side tugs him down off the table just as Cara returns. “Sorry, buddy. These students are hard to get through.”</p><p>“Cara,” Din says. “Who’s that?”</p><p>Cara follows his pointed finger to the boy with silver hair and she shrugs. “No idea. I don’t think he goes to this university. Nobody here seems to know him except those two with him.” She stares at Din and then the guy again before a grin splits across her face. “Does Din Djarin have a crush on the drunk cowboy?”</p><p>“No,” Din mutters. “I’ll admit he’s attractive, but--“</p><p>“Who even talks like that?” Cara laughs, giving him one of the solo cups. “If you think he’s hot then go ask him for his number!”</p><p>“I don’t do that,” Din reminds.</p><p>“Oh yeah, because you’re too cool to give out your number to strangers,” Cara says, rolling her eyes dramatically.</p><p>Din explains, weary, “No, I value my privacy.”</p><p>“You really need to open up, Djarin,” Cara says, tip-toeing as she looks for Greef. She says, “Your cowboy’s leaving the party, his pals are dragging him out. Last chance.”</p><p>Din contemplates it until he sees the silver hair disappear through the door. If it was meant to be, it would have figured itself out.</p><p>“I guess better luck next time,” Din says and Cara groans loudly before shouting Greef’s name to get his attention.</p><p>She turns back to him. “Well, almost midnight. You’re leaving soon or have you changed your mind? Maybe there are more hot people here.”</p><p>Greef rejoins them just as Din decides, “I’m heading home. The party was okay, thanks for inviting me.”</p><p>“Aw, man. There goes the designated driver,” Greef laments.</p><p>Din hands Greef his untouched beer and says, “You can always call an Uber. I’ll see you two tomorrow. Don’t stay too late.”</p><p>“Sure, Dad,” Cara says sarcastically before waving goodbye.</p><p> </p><p>oOo</p><p> </p><p>Din heads to his car, hearing the music slowly fading the further he gets from the university. A part of him regrets not just asking the guy for his number. Sure, he looks like an idiot dancing on a table to a Britney Spears song while smashed but he is cute and despite all signs pointing to ‘no’, Din’s knees go weak for a smile like that.</p><p>But now, it’s surely too late. The boy and his two friends are long gone and Din is going back to his apartment. He missed his chance so he saw no reason to stay at the uncomfortable party any longer.</p><p>He groans when he realises that he’d forgotten to roll the windows of his car up after Greef rolled them down on the drive to the university. It always slips his mind.</p><p>“Better not have been robbed,” he mutters to himself, opening the door to look through his glove box. It seems like everything is untouched and intact and he sighs in relief, getting in the driver’s seat and beginning to drive away.</p><p>He’s five minutes away from his apartment when he suddenly hears the beginning notes of<em> Escape (The Piña Colada Song)</em> by Rupert Holmes coming from the backseat.</p><p>“What the--“ Din trails off, pulling up at the side for a moment to turn back, grabbing the phone. It’s not the model he uses and he knows Cara and Greef don’t own this phone either. The lock screen is a comic book character that Din doesn’t know the name of. Din sighs, this time in the weariness of the situation, and picks up. “Hello?”</p><p>A Southern accent says, “Hey, this is my phone. I threw it into your car.”</p><p><em>Shit, it’s the silver-haired guy</em>, Din realises, and he sits up in his seat. “Where are you? I’ll come and pass you the phone.”</p><p>“Still at the university,” the guy answers. “If you ain’t too far, you could come back. I’ll wait. Or you can give me your address and I’ll go look for you tomorrow morning.”</p><p>“I’ll go back,” Din says quickly, using his shoulder and ear to hold the phone in place as he uses both hands to U-turn the car.</p><p> </p><p>oOo</p><p> </p><p>By the time Din is back at the university, it’s closer to 1 in the morning than midnight and Din is tired. He should have been in bed two hours ago.</p><p>The guy is at the university’s entrance waiting for him. He’s now wearing the maroon shirt and his hair is a mess, but his smile is still the same. It widens when he sees Din’s car approaching.</p><p>“Hey,” the guy greets as Din gets out of his car. “Sorry ‘bout this.”</p><p>“It’s no trouble,” Din lies, passing the phone over. “I just want to know why you threw your phone into my car, though.”</p><p>“To be frank with ya, I saw you when you arrived and I thought you were cute,” the guy says. “My friends dragged me away before I could ask for your number so my beer-filled brain decided it would be a good idea to toss this into your car so you would have to come back.” He glances up at the sky, looking almost embarrassed. “When you looked at me when I was on that table... Shit, I wished that wasn’t the first time you saw me. I normally make good first impressions.”</p><p>Din forces his face into a more neutral expression, fighting the urge to give him a stupid grin. He’s charmed despite it all. “Well, you made <em>a</em> first impression.”</p><p>The guy grimaces. “I’m better than this when I’m sober, promise. Here, if you give me your number, I’ll try again. We can redo it.”</p><p>Din replies, “I don’t give strangers my number.”</p><p>“Not even handsome strangers?” The guy tries, clearly light-hearted.</p><p>“Not even you.”</p><p>“Damn,” he chuckles. “Okay, well, can I give you my number instead?”</p><p>Din passes him his phone and he keys it in. When Din gets his phone back, the contact reads ‘Cobb’ with the dancing man emoji by his name. “Cobb Dancing Man,” Din reads out. “You have a strange last name.”</p><p>Cobb laughs. “Name’s Cobb Vanth.”</p><p>“Din Djarin,” Din says.</p><p>“If I take you out on a date, we can lose the stranger status,” Cobb suggests, smiling. “I know it sounds kinda stupid but you’re cute and now I know you’re funny and hey, at least you didn’t think the whole phone in your car thing was annoying, so that’s a win to me. I like you. Will you go on a date with me?”</p><p>Din considers it. “When?”</p><p>Cobb’s answer comes with no hesitation. "Now."</p><p>Din nods to his car. “What the hell, fine. You have somewhere in mind?”</p><p>“Don’t I ever,” Cobb grins, holding out his hand for Din to take. “I’m gonna take you on the best first date you’ve ever been on, Djarin.”</p>
<p></p><div>
  <p>Din takes his hand in his. “That’s a bold statement for a date at 1 AM by someone who’s sobering up.”</p>
</div><p>“But I always live up to expectations,” Cobb promises. “I know the <em>perfect</em> spot to take you to.”</p><p>Grinning, Din says, “Lead the way, Vanth.”</p>
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